When Band Is Your Life
by ClarinetKtM
Summary: This is the story of a freshman clarinet's life in Band. Trials, tribulations, love, friendship and life in general. Chapters not rated G will be marked as such.


**Author's Note:** None of this ever actually happened. Well, okay, I may take a few real things from my life and put them in the story, but that won't happen often, as this story is set in the near future.This story is not about me, even though I do play clarinet in Marching Band. It's not even set in my HS, rather in one that I made up. Obviously, I don't own Band, but pretty much everything else is my own design. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Back to Band Camp**

"Band, ten-hut!"

Fifty piece band. Thirteen sweaty freshman faces. Four brand-new tubas. First day of Mighty Marching Tigers Band Camp 2005.

There was the usual collective snap to attention and scream of "HUT!" Someone coughed.

"Cassandra!" the Drum Major yelled. He sighed. "Take a lap!"

Cassandra, the girl who coughed, glared at him, set down her baritone, and started around the field.

Nine people turned their heads, including Liana Sparrow, the only freshman clarinet.

"Did I give you the at-ease?" called the Drum Major, also known as Slave Driver Josh. All heads snapped forward before the Slave Driver could make everyone run.

"That's what I thought," Josh said. "We'll wait for Cassandra."

Liana suppressed a long sigh as she watched Josh adjust his sunglasses and take a drink from his water bottle. They'd been running the same drill for the past hour-and-twenty-two-minutes without a water break. A gnat landed on her nose. She desperately wanted to scratch it, but Josh was watching them all intently and, being a freshman, Liana had to prove herself. A few flags in the Guard fluttered as a nice breeze came, and the gnat flew away.

"Cassandra, move it! We're all waiting for you!" Josh yelled into his bull horn.

Liana could hear Cassandra's grumbling as she returned to her spot in the line and picked up her baritone.

"Don't make me give you another," Josh warned, and Cassandra came to attention.

Liana could feel the sweat running down her face, and wished that they could break for lunch.

"Okay, same drill as last time!"

Liana rolled her eyes. As if they didn't _know_ that.

The whistle blew four times and the drill started. Liana held position for six measures. Then it was nine steps forward, left face, and 4/5 to the forty-yard line, so that she was practically running.

A flute, Adrian, that was running beside Liana, almost tripped, but caught her balance just in time.

It was a long drill, consisting of the band forming each letter of GO TIGERS individually, and ending up back in their original places. Liana thought that this was rather stupid, but she didn't write the drills.

Panting and sweaty, the band came to parade rest for what seemed to be the millionth time that day.

While the band was waiting, Mr. Barbicon, the director, walked out onto the field.

"What time is it, Josh?" Mr. Barbicon asked, pacing slowly past every band member.

"Twelve-thirty-four, sir." Josh tried to sound authoritive.

"Yes. And when did I tell you to break for lunch?" Mr. Barbicon stopped pacing and turned to look at Josh.

Josh coughed and shifted his weight. "Er, twelve-fifteen, sir," he mumbled.

"Exactly." Mr. Barbicon turned toward the band. Liana could see his worn out, dirty white sneakers. "Band! You're dismissed. One hour lunch break, starting now."

There were several murmurs of appreciation, and a few "_Finally_!"s, but most just started toward the band room. Some collapsed right there on the grass, most of them drummers.

Liana smiled, stretched, and linked arms with two of her good friends, Chris (a trumpet) and Eric (an alto sax).

"I thought we'd _never_ get a break," Chris panted as they stepped in unison over Jake, a quad player, who was lying spread-eagle in the middle of the field.

"You're telling me." Eric said, "My reed split right down the middle half an hour ago, and I've got a cut on my bottom lip that feels like someone took an axe to my mouth!" Eric stuck out his lip, and Liana saw the cut. It did indeed look painful.

A Guard girl passed them, and almost knocked Chris out with her flag.

"Watch it, you ditz!" Chris called after her.

Liana elbowed him in the ribs. "How many times do I have to tell you? Just flick her a B natural and keep your mouth shut, or you'll be running suicides all day!"

Chris grumbled, "What does it matter? The Slave Driver didn't hear."

"Yeah, but one day he might!" Eric said.

They argued all the way back to the band room.

The band room was very nice. It had light blue carpet throughout, to dull the echo. Walking in the front door into the hall, there were two bathrooms and a water fountain on the left, practice rooms on the right, and farther up were the director's office, the Color Guard room, and the instrument room.

Instead of going straight to the instrument room like everyone else, Liana, Chris, and Eric went into the band room proper and headed for their lunches.

The main band room was an amazing sight. Five risers, lined with stands and matching blue chairs. The back wall had tuba/sousaphone lockers, while the other walls had shelves, cabinets, and pictures of the band from previous years. The directors stand stood in front of the risers, riddled with sticky notes, pencils, a conductor's baton and random scores of music. On the far left wall was the uniform closet, which had a very small loft above it. You had to turn around to see the TV and three filing cabinets full of music.


End file.
